This page now contains all the different areas of GNP, plus a variety of informational sections—in other words, all the parts are in place—yet it is still ongoing. It is not finished ("finished," as though nothing remains to add, or change), and I never expect to think of it as such, simply because each year's climbing brings with it the addition of a substantial amount of new visual material to incorporate, plus new experiences and information, and, hopefully, the same from others in the SP Community. Glacier National Park certainly doesn't exist as an unknown, and as long as I, and others, keep finding the place endlessly fascinating and wonderful, there will be no shortage of input from which to draw. To put it another way: It is an open-ended work.

So enjoy what's here, but do keep checking back; it is an organic, fluid proposition, with much to add, subtract, and rethink. I welcome your comments and suggestions. Also your photos. Enjoy this fantastically great place with me!

—Vernon

Summit view from Mount Stimson.

AND NOW....

TO BEGIN...CAREFULLY

Mount Merritt

Where to begin? How to begin? Good questions indeed, and since this page deals with an area, and a well-known area at that, described by no less a personage than the great naturalist and explorer John Muir as, "the best care-killing scenery on the continent," I think the answer is: begin carefully. And so it does. But also, and perhaps a bit surprisingly, this page begins with something not so well known, yet something getting-in-your-head memorable that won't for any reason leave (not that you want it to), and in this Glacier National Park of unforgettable peaks, it is not even a climb. Carefully begun, indeed! It is the Ptarmigan Tunnel to Ahern Pass Goat Trail, which J. Gordon Edwards, another individual knowing more than a little about mountainous terrain, called "The greatest twelve miles on the North American Continent." I don't know nearly as much as did Edwards, but even in these mountains about which I'm generally reduced to speaking of in nothing but superlatives, the Ptarmigan Tunnel to Ahern Pass Goat Trail is indeed quite special,

Ipasha Peak

and very much worth your attention. Therefore, after a relatively easy five mile jaunt (although the last 2.5 miles do climb quite steadily) from the Swiftcurrent Campground past the likes of Mount Gould, Mount Grinnell, Mount Wilbur, the Pinnacle Wall, the deceptively rounded west side of Crowfeet Mountain, with the sun just peeking over its rim....

That is what this page begins with.

There are a few things to remember, four of which come immediately, easily, to mind: Merritt. Ipasha. Natoas and Ahern, the bookends. Over and over they come at you, from that first unforgettable view when,

Natoas Peak

Ahern Peak

by the simple act of walking around a cliff, with no warning you come face to face with thousands and thousands of vertical feet of glacially chisled rock looming impossibly big across the canyon, and no matter how many mountains you've already seen, it's special, and you know it's Merritt, with Old Sun Glacier drawing your eyes again and again to the summit, then sliding along the sharp-spired ridge to neighboring Ipasha—to a mountain as beautiful as its name. The glaciers had a field day here, munching and carving and ripping and making Paradise, and you do what everyone does: stop in your tracks and try fitting the vision in your head, until those behind let you know they'd like to see as well so would you please move on. Then, soon you hear the ones behind them, "hey, move along."

This goat trail has its dangers with exposure, and one soon learns to not walk and gape at the same time.

Goat Trail, #1

The actual cliff part of this trek is about four miles long, and even though there is relief along the way, for maybe half that distance slipping on a pebble could prove...well, it's not something you want to do. You need to know how you react to exposure before

Goat Trail, #2

these miles of greatness. In addition to the magnificent cliffs above and below this seemingly fragile marvel of goat engineering, across the way—always,

Goat Trail, #3

The Four lying across the way!—is the Lithoid Cusp, the highest of a series of sharp, none-of-which-have-ever-been-climbed, spires forming the ridge between Merritt and Ipasha; and, at one point—not over there, but over here—the cliffs bend, wrap in a bit of a curve to reveal an unusual

Iceberg Peak, with Goat Trail on Pinnacle Wall

view of Iceberg Peak; then finally, coming towards Ahern Pass, the view opens to reveal another, more distant, beauty: seldom-climbed Longfellow Peak.

From Ahern Pass (and early in the summer you'll want both ice axe and crampons to ascend the snow field to the saddle—later in the summer you'll probably still want crampons; we did it late in July of a dry year, and were glad to have them) the ascent is 600' up to Iceberg Notch, which gives a rather precipituous view of the almost 1600' vertical climb down the other side to Iceberg Lake. I remember rather innocently asking, "where's the way down?" (I mean, for crying out loud, standing on the notch and peering down at the lake, you couldn't even see the way; it was too steep!) The answer, all the while gesturing down ("down" seems to be a key word here) to the lake, "that way." Very funny. But no ropes needed in good weather (actually, we didn't take ropes with us, because this entire outing is NOT something to do in inclement

Ipasha Peak, Lithoid Cusp

weather: don't even consider it!), but in several areas on the descent it helps having others

Longfellow Peak, as seen over Ahern Pass

along to assist with foot/hand placement, and in all honesty, once into the descent it wasn't as bad—quite—as that first impression made it out to be. From Iceberg Lake it is a nice trail stroll five miles back to the Swiftcurrent Campground. Total round trip is sixteen miles; I don't know which of them are Edwards' "twelve." It doesn't matter. A day spent doing the goat trail from the Ptarmigan Tunnel to Ahern Pass will change your life. Or at least the Glacier National Park portion of it.

Where to begin?

With something stunning, something getting-in-your-head memorable, that won't for any reason leave.

Not that you want it to....

Ipasha Peak, Lithoid Cusp, Mount Merritt

Journey to "The Crown of the Continent"

A nice view from Divide Mtn, looking west into the park.

Mount Jackson summit.

Recent evidence shows there have been humans in this area dating as far back as 10,000 years, but it is not known for certain whether those original inhabitants were the distant forerunners of the tribes inhabiting the area today, or whether the present-day tribal ancestors arrived at a later date. By any reckoning, however, when the first Europeans came through—the British explorer David Thompson is credited as the first European to leave a recorded impression of the area, that in the 1780's—there had been people living on this land for a very long time.

The Blackfeet people living on the plains just east of the mountains called this area,

An unusual perspective, as seen from Rising Wolf Mountain

"The Backbone of the World," and were the dominant tribe of the region long before the first explorers and fur trappers came onto the scene. Other tribes in the area were the Kalispel and Kootenai to the west; the Crow, Sioux, and Assiniboine in the south; and the Blood Indians to the north, in what is now eastern Alberta. The tribes, naturally enough, didn't have clearly delineated territories,

Smoke & fiery sun in GNP...

resulting in hunting and fishing on what neighboring peoples considered their land, with the inevitable result of interaction between them that was sometimes friendly, sometimes bloody. The Blackfeet were relatively aggressive, and successful, in protecting what they deemed their hunting lands, and it was this dominance over neighboring regional tribes, plus the happenstance of a geographical location in the immediate vicinity of where the plains turn to mountains, that led them, more than any other tribe, into direct contact with the peoples, and eventually the individuals, that would affect the life-altering shift of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, and the creation of a great national park.

Such a whirl of mountains it's difficult to sort them out.

Around Logan Pass this is known as "Spring."

It didn't, of course, happen overnight, but those late-1700's first European explorers signaled the beginning of massive change in the area as,

Exposure on Mount Wilbur.

slowly, then with an ever increasing volume that would not—could not—be denied, the white man came into the area to make it their own. In 1806, the Lewis and Clark expedition came within 50 miles of what is now the park (Captain Lewis even led a small party in a fruitless search for the headwaters of the Marias River), and from the time of that early 1800's exploration, as the region gradually impinged itself onto the consciousness of an expanding nation, the reasons people came to this land changed, from what had been at first mostly trapping and exploration, to that of the search for copper, gold, and oil. And of course, buffalo. And beginning in the 1850's, the railroad began searching for a way through the area, with—and it's quite a long story—the route completed over Marias Pass in 1891.

A long way down on Mount Wilbur.

But there is something different about the unfolding history of these northern and western plains and mountains, a difference in the people that ultimately triumphed here. Not that they weren't as devastating in effect to the Native Peoples as elsewhere—they were—but there is a difference in the final triumphing value at the heart of things. There was the inevitable rumour of gold, others came searching for oil and coal, buffalo hunters were eradicating the bison; all these fortune seekers came looking for what awaited at

Early Light on the Garden Wall.

the end of the rainbow, but nothing came of it. Those kind of riches weren't there, and in the end, that which won out, what survived, was simply what was there to see. The successful people, the ones enduring over time, were those loving the area for its scenic beauty.

Two remarkable men played defining roles in the unfolding history of the area. By 1880 the Blackfeet were being persecuted by the U.S. government, devastated by smallpox, the last of the buffalo had been killed off in 1882, and the winters of 1883 and 1884 were witness to mass starvation on the reservation. One white man, James Willard Schultz, living among the Blackfeet, decided to help. He wrote to George Bird Grinnell (follow this link to A Singularly Important Individual section of the Mount Grinnell page), then editor of Forest and Stream magazine, who used his influence,

Very Serious Wilderness...

both through the magazine and influential government friends, to increase government aid to the tribe.

Schultz invited Grinnell to the area, who came, returned many times during the next 20 years, and was so overwhelmed by what he saw that he coined the phrase—still in use today—"Crown of the Continent." It was during this period of time that Grinnell led a changing awareness, as focus in the area completed the final shift from that of the failed mineral-riches seekers (there was no commercially viable gold and oil, and there were no more buffalo to hunt!), to that of a remarkable scenic area worthy of preservation. As a result of Grinnell's tireless efforts over a period of

Glacier lilies on Logan Pass.

time lasting almost 25 years, his writings, his lobbying and pleading with Congress, President William Howard Taft signed a law in 1910 creating Glacier National Park.

A beautiful, perfectly formed horn.

Schultz and Grinnell weren't, of course, the only individuals of sensitivity and intelligence in this part of the developing country. Many others, both Whites and Natives, recognized, and were cognizant of, the almost overwhelming problems of disparate cultures in conflict, and somehow were able to persuade all peoples that despite the myriad differences and conflict, this place was indeed great, and simply must be preserved. Out of a dark tale all too familiar throughout the Americas, wisdom was found...enough, eventually, on all sides. He didn't work alone, but of them all, today it is George Bird Grinnell recognized as "The Father of Glacier National Park."

Since 1910...quickly

Light and snow on The Guardhouse and Porcupine Ridge

This photo taken two years after the Sun Road was completed in 1932.

There are yet two historical issues with which to deal, both of paramount importance to the region as it is today. Even before President Taft signed the law creating Glacier National Park, a growing public awareness of the area resulted in an ever-increasing

Red Eagle Fire cleared the view...

influx of those not wishing anything more from a visit than pleasant visual memories of a wilderness-type environment. The completion of the railroad over Marias Pass in 1891 made regional access much easier than it had been, and that, coupled with the publicity attendant to the 1910 signing into being of a National Park, meant that more individuals than ever before needed some way of reaching the park's interior. At first all travel was done either on foot or horseback, and lodging was either in tents, or chalets constructed on trails in the middle of nowhere, but that simply was not a long-term acceptable solution for the growing number of tourists which,

Sometimes the unexpected, small vistas are just as mind-boggling...

like such individuals everywhere, wanted the easy way in, through, and out. So in 1921 construction began on a road through the heart of the park. (This link will connect to the GTTS Mountain page, which has an "Etymology"

From Chief Mountain.

section telling about an interesting legend as to the naming of the mountain from which the road derives its name.) Going-to-the-Sun Road was completed in 1932, and its high point has been known by many names over the years—the Blackfeet called it Misam-ohsokoi ("Ancient Road"), the early mountain men called it Trapper Pass, and today, named after the first superintendent of GNP, William Logan, it is called Logan Pass. Several of the early chalets (Rising Sun, Cut Bank, Sun Point) were torn down after World War II, but five remain in use today (two of them, Granite Park Chalet & Sperry Chalet, are not accessible by road), as a stunning visual memory—and lodging experience!—of a time almost a hundred years ago.

Goat Haunt Ranger Station

The other historical thing has to do with the fact that the U.S. and Canada get along quite well, and that Glacier National Park's northern boundary is Waterton Lakes National Park's southern boundary, with the separation between them being the international border (the 49th parallel) between the two countries. In 1932—the same year as completion of the Sun Road—the Rotary Clubs of Montana and Alberta convinced the governments of Canada and the United States to join the two national parks as a symbol of friendship between the countries, and later, in 1979, the United Nations designated Waterton-Glacier International Peace Park as the world's first Biosphere Reserve. Today, Glacier is the fourth largest National Park in the Contiguous U.S. (Death Valley, Yellowstone, and Everglades are larger). The Waterton Lakes boundaries have changed many times over the years, with the size of today's park being 204 square miles (much smaller than Glacier), but the Canadian Government has been working for several years on plans to again change the official boundaries, this time to almost doubling the park in size.

SO...WHAT ABOUT THOSE GLACIERS, ANYWAY?

Fifty-foot wall on Blackfoot Glacier.

Close-up of Sperry Glacier.

Sometimes when the question comes, it does so accompanied by a kind of wry bemusement, "After the glaciers are gone, will Glacier National Park just be 'National Park?'" And actually, to those of us fortunate enough to be

Grinnell Glacier and Upper Grinnell Lake.

within easy reach of this place, that sort of reaction to a sad circumstance would not, on first thought, be entirely unreasonable. In fact, let's just make it "THE National Park," and be done with it. No more syntax worries. Nee Glacier National Park no longer has the first part of its name, but as compensation for being finally shorn of its icy identifiers, THE putsthis marvel of a landscape where it belongs, at the head of some kind of mythical National Park hierarchy. Fettered no more by those pesky glaciers, that little three-letter word makes it so: THE National Park. Take that.

The business end of Old Sun Glacier.

Well...not quite. It is true the glaciers are disappearing, and magnificent a spectacle as some of them still are—and were much, much more so when this area was first being discussed and drawn as a national park (check out this link for "before and now" pictures)—the park's actual name came as much from what past ice did to the landscape, as from the progeny in full glorious view around 1900. You see, the mountains here are nothing if not sedimentary—that is, feeble, rotten, and crumbly to the core—and because of that, like a knife hacking through soft butter, what the more-than-a-mile-thick Continental Ice Sheet (they knew how to make

Kintla Glacier, from Kintla Peak.

glaciers back then!) did to this place was not...nice. It ripped and carved and mutilated almost beyond recognition; savaged the land, then melted away into the night; fled the scene—out of sight, out of mind, long gone, but leaving behind a terrible carnage discovered ages later...of walls and cliffs and angles and sometimes—really!—only half a mountain, or less. And no buttressing foothills to smooth the way, either; those have been ground into moraines, or spread over valley floors, or are now dust in the ocean—meaning there is a lot of sheerness rising from those same valley floors. Not much left of the guilty to be sure, but the smoking-gun vertical scarring is searing! And that is why Glacier National Park will never be nee Glacier National Park, renamed into a lesser something else. The icy monsters from thousands of years ago left too much in their wake to make it so.

Overview of Blackfoot Glacier.

Swiftcurrent Glacier.

Crossing Blackfoot Glacier.

Real shrinkage began around 1850, which coincides with the ending of what is known as the "Little Ice Age" in Europe, and has continued to the present day, with one period of "drastic" decrease between 1920 and 1940, and an opposite period, 1960-1979, when the larger glaciers actually registered a slight increase in size. If the current warming climate—longer and hotter summers, decreased snowfall, warmer winter temperatures—continues unabated at its present rate, it is estimated the glaciers will be gone around the year 2030. Even if the present climatological factors affecting glaciers stabilize at present day levels, with the current trend not continuing on up the "warmer and dryer" scale, it is estimated the glaciers might then last as long as the year 2100—a rather bleak best-case scenario! In other words, there are probably people living today that will visit this park bearing the word "glacier" in its nomenclature, that will wonder what all the fuss was about.

A distant view of Sperry Glacier as it spreads over Gunsight Mountain.

Crossing Swiftcurrent Glacier.

Glacier National Park is one of only two remaining glacier concentrations in the Rocky Mountains south of the U.S./Canadian border (the other, of course—having slightly more area of glacial coverage than

Closeup of Jackson Glacier.

Glacier—is Wyoming's Wind River Range; also, it is interesting to note that Waterton Lakes National Park has no glaciers, and that there are relatively few glaciers of any size within a hundred kilometers north of the border), and while all North American glaciers are shrinking, the Glacier Park area is an unusually fertile location for glaciological and climatological studies because the glaciers in this part of the Rockies are at a relatively low elevation, and more readily affected by climate fluctuations.
Of the approximately 50 glaciers left in the park 37 have names; there were over 150 in 1850. Five of those remaining are larger than 1.0 square

Traversing Blackfoot Glacier

kilometers in area. Blackfoot—the largest at 1.74 square kilometers, although that measurement was done in 1979—Jackson, and Harrison are all in the Blackfoot Mountain/Jackson Mountain Basin, in the park's south-central region, with the other two of the "top five" being the Agassiz and Rainbow Glaciers in the Northwest corner. Two others, the Sperry and Grinnell Glaciers, are slightly less than 1.0 square kilometers in area. These are large glaciers if you happen to be standing at their center, yet all are small by global standards. And still dangerous: two summers ago a tourist fell into a crevass on the popular Sperry Glacier, the party he was with couldn't get him out, help arrived 90 minutes later, but he was already dead of hypothermia.

Harrison Glacier

If current trends continue unabated, at some point in the not too distant future Park Rangers are going to be explaining that Glacier National Park derives its name from a cataclysmic event happening slowly, over many, many years, then ending about 11,000 years ago, but that when the first trappers and explorers entered this area in the 1800's—honest!—there were still spectacular remnants left of what must in ancient times have been an

Overview of Sperry Glacier.

unbelievably awesome Continental Ice Sheet. They will also point out that tree line is higher than it used to be, that the type and variety of foliage has changed, become dryer and more susceptible to fire, disease, and insects (now having multiple breeding cycles per summer—which are longer than in the past), and that a great deal of water is missing from the ecosystem, which used ice as storage, and steady release. Then, if these rangers are really on a roll maybe they'll speak of how the wildlife has changed—some species actually disappearing, others becoming dominant in the food chain—to match the availability of food and habitat. But not to worry: in the end they'll come back to the fact that this park is scenic eye candy, named not only for some relatively-recently-disappeared glaciers (which you used to be able to not only see, but walk on), but also for the really long-ago wild and savage carving of the land. And that is really why it is called Glacier National Park. Still.

Glacier N.P. gets its name from what the glaciers did to the mountains—they ripped them apart.

LINKS
Anyone doing research on receding glaciers—whether those in Glacier National Park, or worldwide—will find no shortage of material to read, some of which is naturally better than others, and it will soon be apparent that a great deal of repetitive information exists from article to article. With that in mind I have provided several links to articles that I believe to be informative—and relatively non-repetitive in their presentation—in this particular area of research. First, the "before and now" link in the second paragraph above leads to a project documentation which is excellent because it visually, by means of photographs, deals specifically and impressively with just Glacier National Park. In addition, the following are three links to articles focusing on GNP—I found these articles to be both interesting and unusually informative.
#1 — Glacier Monitoring in Glacier National Park
#2 — Glacier Retreat in Glacier National Park
#3 — Modeled Climate-Induced Glacier Change in Glacier National Park, 1850-2100
Finally, I'm including this link, A Sign of Things to Come, because, while it focuses on climate change in Montana, it does so within a global context. It is one of the best (of many) articles on global warming I have yet read, and I recommend it very highly!

The merest shadow of what these glaciers were in the early 1900's.

MOUNTAINS, MOUNTAINS, and then...MORE MOUNTAINS!

Nice light on Edwards Mountain.

INTRODUCTION

Mount Gould in a beautiful, foreboding, sea of mountains

There are several ways this page could be organized. In his book, A Climber's Guide to Glacier National Park (which you absolutely need if doing anything in Glacier beyond what I like to refer to as the "introductory" tourist trails), J. Gordon Edwards divides the park into ten areas. In the now out-of-print (but still available on the internet through used book outlets)

Bearhat Mountain

Climber's Guide to Montana, Pat Caffrey does it with six—but the book is by no means as complete or thorough as the Edwards. It would also be possible to simply divide the area into four large sections, with areas north and south of the Sun Road, and an east-west axis with the

The everpresent depths, well defined.

focal point being the summit of Logan Pass. My point here is that differing approaches and solutions are possible, with no one way of organizing being absolutely best.

To elaborate a bit on what I said in the first paragraph above, I'm looking at this page as something organic, that will constantly be growing, changing, and will in reality probably never be "finished," so the solutions arrived at with this initial offering are apt to change over time as more is added (and subtracted). At any rate, the Edwards book will be the foundation (not copied, though...for example, the area divisions will not be the same); much of the information will be from the experiences related in that tome, as well as my own encounters with the park, and—a sincere wish on my part—anecdotes and information (and pictures!) from fellow SP members. And now, on to what this page is really about.

A source of information:

COMPLETE PEAK LIST FOR WATERTON-GLACIER INTERNATIONAL PEACE PARK

Depth, beauty, drama...!

THE LOGAN PASS AREA

A stunning summit view from Mount Cannon!

Logan Pass crest.

Almost everyone visiting Glacier National Park crosses Logan Pass, and for most of them, that is enough; they have no need to climb the mountains, and it is easy to see why: good access, stunning views along the way, more

Logan Pass area from Swiftcurrent Mtn. (enlarge this!)

great scenery once you get there; it is not, in fact, really all that much a stretch to think of the Logan Pass Area as not only the (more or less) geographical, but also the park's emotional center. Not that the peaks are higher, or more spectacular, than elsewhere (they're not), and on a pleasant summer day it is truly almost impossible to find a parking spot at the Visitor Center, with, at the same time, the nearby trails being full of hikers; one is certainly not dealing with wild isolation! But even while surrounded by the car-bound tourist masses, it is only too obvious that the wildness is a mere heartbeat�a step�away. Despite the July and August crowds, this place really has not much veneer of civilization; such a thing is only imagined briefly at the Visitor Center, then quickly made insignificant, lost among the inhabitant sheep and goats frequenting the place, or the omnipresent warnings of (also inhabitant) bears; and as is immediately and indisputably apparent, no civilized accoutrements exist among the omnipresent peaks any more than they do on

Reynolds Mtn in morning light

the winds of Logan Pass (and how quickly those winds can turn bitter!). What is here for all to see, to feel, is a wild place not tamed even by easy intrusion along a good paved road. It is wildness on display, radiating out along trails bound for true and unknown isolation, sitting easily on the massive snowfields of early summer; it is wildness entwined with a vision that can't help but wrap itself around, then become lost amongst the peaks before moving along glacial valleys and lakes to the horizon. Even the nicest days are false shelter: wilderness is a constant, effortless thing, pressing in on this wonderfully alluring, inhospitable place!

Clements Mountain

Probably it starts with oh-so-familiar Reynolds Mountain, the sentinel with its impossible-to-avoid North Face Traverse drawing the exclamation, you walk across THAT? from the many visitors that don't climb but just take it all in with amazement. Then, although not seen so much on calendars—meaning that neither name nor physical recognition is as immediate—nearby neighbors Clements, Heavy Runner, and Pollock Mountains, with not-much-more-distant Little Chief Mountain, and the road's namesake Going-to-the-Sun Mountain, all supply a visual treat to the east. Looking north is easy because the huge western wall of Pollock Mountain is the guide as vision briefly grapples with the small point of Bishops Cap, then follows the Garden Wall to Mount Gould and beyond. Simply put, the thing about Glacier National Park that gets to everyone is the view, and the spellbinding center of it all is Logan Pass. The take is much richer for those climbing and hiking, but even if "only" driving the Sun Road, it is still the sort of thing stays with you, residing in memory, I think (and it's a good thing), alongside ancient and vague lives of fires and caves.

A Real Beauty of a Scene!

This is also a fun place for those from areas getting little or no snow, as even after a mild winter, impressive snowfields last well into July. There is an area not far east of the Logan Pass summit known as the "Big Drift," which, if passing through GNP soon after the Sun Road opens, provides the thrill of driving alongside a wall of snow which even following winter with less than normal snowfall, is 40 feet high, and if the winter has brought a heavy snow pack, is 80 to 85 feet deep (and a substantial challenge for clearing crews)! An additional—and far from negligible—side benefit of this late-melting snow in the Logan Pass area is that there is easily accessible, excellent terrain for practicing the all-important skill of ice axe self-arrest.

Oberlin Summit.

Logan Pass area from Little Chief Mtn

Pollock, from Oberlin.

Like a painting....

Several trails take off in either the immediate or near vicinity of the Visitor Center, which is well worth the stop; not only are the views nice, but the Center itself has an excellent selection of books, maps, and videos for sale, plus Park Rangers are on duty for registration and informational purposes. The trail to what

Hidden Lake, from Bearhat

is probably the park's most easily ascended peak, Mount Oberlin, begins practically at the doors, can be done by almost anyone with even a modicum of physical conditioning, and its summit provides a memorable look into much more of the park than can be seen from the highway. There is also the good, well-marked—the first half mile or so of which is a boardwalk—hike to Hidden Lake (also beginning at the Visitor Center), which is another means to fantastic scenery, with a

Mount Oberlin

minimum of effort expended. From the Hidden Lake Overlook are remarkable views of not only Hidden Lake, but Bearhat Mountain, Edwards Mountain, Gunsight Mountain, Mount Cannon (with its special-even-for-Glacier summit views), Mount Brown, and peaks in the Lake McDonald Area. For those of a more adventuresome mien (and not objecting to additional physical effort), descent from the Hidden Lake Overlook to the lake opens the possibility of an off-trail trek skirting the eastern base of Bearhat Mountain, eventually reaching a saddle overlooking beautiful Floral Park, with stunning views of Gunsight—Sperry Glacier dominating its northern flank—and Edwards Mountains, as well as the oft-overlooked Little Matterhorn. In addition, another trail well worth mentioning—even though it's almost 3 miles east of Logan Pass—takes off from Siyeh Bend, and depending on destination choices, either leads to possible climbs of Piegan and Pollock Mountains, or—after about 2.5 miles—an offshoot branches to the east, heading to Preston Park and Mount Siyeh, or Siyeh Pass and a return to the Sun Road at Sunrift Gorge (where, after nine pleasant miles, hopefully you'll have transportation waiting!).

Two differing views from the Heavy Runner saddle

Light playing with Clements Mountain

And lastly—but most assuredly not least!—the southern terminus of the great Highline Trail is here. For those so inclined, it is possible to head out on this trail early in the morning, reaching Waterton Lake in time for the last launch from Goat Haunt into Canada late in the afternoon. It

East, from Bearhat Mountain.

is thirty miles, unless you miss the launch, in which case tack on another eight to the Waterton Park Townsite. Most individuals just head north two or three miles on this trail, then return with some nice pictures and memories, but some do the 7.5 miles to the Granite Park Chalet, which can be used as a base camp for all sorts of wonderful GNP activities. For those seeking experiences well beyond that of just driving the Sun Road, the Highline Trail provides wonderful access to much of the entire northern half of the park.

Bearhat Mtn, Mt Vaught.

One of the highlight, built-in "touristy" features of GNP is that you can get countless great photos right from your car, but as usual with mountain country, taking to the trails and peaks brings results only hinted at from the highway—climb these mountains and another world opens up!—and so it is with the Logan Pass Area. There are many, many summits, approaches, and climbing experiences here; even though it is not difficult to understand why a "drive-through" satisfies most, take the time and effort to leave your vehicle, and it gets a LOT better. And does so with almost stunning rapidity.

Somewhat unusual perspective of Bearhat Mountain, from Mount Clements.

THE MAGIC OF MANY GLACIER

Wilbur, Grinnell, Gould.

Beautiful Iceberg Peak!

"Like hiking into a painting..."

Although some people may believe the Many Glacier area is too barren, windy, and cold, for most mountaineers and serious hikers there is no more satisfying region in all of North America. There are several great valleys radiating from the Swiftcurrent Lake environs and at least ten other lakes nearby, many of them excellent for fishing. The greatest attraction of the region, however, is surely the encircling array of mountains. All of the peaks normally climbed in this vicinity are easily reached in a single day, and there are good facilities for eating, sleeping, buying supplies, enjoying entertainment, doing laundry, taking showers, and receiving medical attention at the conclusion of those climbs.

From Mt. Wilbur

REALLY—nothing here but mountains!

I don't know what J. Gordon Edwards (A Climber's Guide to Glacier National Park) had in mind with his use of the word, "barren," in the above quote, and I'm certainly not one to seriously dispute anything this man had to say about GNP, but in this case, I'm thinking he maybe slipped up a bit, misunderstanding the negative sentiments mentioned above, the original feelings expressed no doubt having been something along the lines of "incomparably rich," an opinion which would have been more accurately to the point. Unfortunately though...it is true that, for whatever reason, this part of the park traps weather, sometimes, even in summer, for lengthy-enough periods of time that if you have only a week you may well be out of luck. The peaks and valleys will be buried in clouds, wind, and whatever type of precipitation the temperatures allow. In other words, to put it bluntly, miserable and grim. Other areas of the park will probably be more accommodating, so don't fight it, just go elsewhere, but keep in mind that the weather will break eventually (although remember, the assumption here is that it's summer), and buried in those entrapping clouds is a treasure worth seeking out which, at least in my mind, has nothing whatsoever to do with "barren."

Two SUBSTANTIALLY different takes on Iceberg Lake.

Unusual perspective into the Many Glacier Area.

Mount Henkel, from Iceberg Lake Trail.

Coming to this area presents a nice problem, which can be simply stated: there is so very much! Valleys, ridges, and peaks; lakes, glaciers, hikes, wildlife (including—this link as a matter of interest—the largest number of the elusive and rare wolverine in one area in the Continental U.S.)—it all comes together in a presentation at the same time both spellbinding and intimidating. But Edwards is correct, there are facilities enough of all types, making either

Crowfeet Mountain

the Swiftcurrent Campground or Many Glacier Hotel a good base for operations, and while there are indeed overnight or multiple-night trail opportunities leading from the area (a circumstance holding true throughout all of GNP), many of the best outings can be done in a (sometimes long) day both beginning and ending at the same Many Glacier site.

Mount Grinnell

Rock-solid grandeur!

Valleys are, of course, defined by the peaks and ridges around them, and those parameters of definition in this area are remarkable in both quantity and quality. Within 15 minutes of the campground one can be on the way up Mount Henkel, and its short, 1.5 mile climb (all class 2 and 3, but in that distance elevation gain is almost 4000') leading to spectacular views of the wonderful Mount Wilbur/Pinnacle Wall/Iceberg Peak cirque enfolding Iceberg Lake, and points beyond—Vulture Peak, Mount Merritt, Rainbow Peak, Mount Carter—but also looking south to Mount Gould, then even further south to beyond the Logan Pass Area. If so desired, traverses to either Apikuni and/or Crowfeet Mountain (Henkel is between the two) provide a visually breathtaking introduction as to why you're in this place to begin with! And in case you need it, the summit of Crowfeet Mountain provides easily obtainable, mute—but exciting—evidence (its 2000'+ wall is sheer enough you won't be shy about having someone hold on as you peer over the edge to Kennedy Lake below) of the voracious action of the great Continental Ice Sheet.

Mount Wynn.

Bullhead Lake.

Wilbur, Iceberg Peak, Iceberg Lake.

Or, if you'd rather, the Cracker Lake trail leads from the Many Glacier Hotel, providing ready access to massive Allen Mountain, and also to one of the many wonderful GNP ridge walks, this from the summit of Mount Wynn, 5.5 miles to the summit of Mount Siyeh—one of the six peaks over 10000' in the park—and if you thought the 2000 feet of air from the top of Crowfeet Mountain impressive,

Angles and lines—Siyeh from the west.

the north face of Siyeh provides over double that! As Pat Caffrey rather succinctly puts it in Climbers Guide to Montana, "Is the north face [of Siyeh] a T-rated route? Don't ask. This book rates climbing routes, not air shows." The Siyeh North Face has only been climbed twice; there is an excellent interview with the two first-ascent climbers about their three day climb

Mount Wilbur, Iceberg Peak.

(two nights on the face) in the 2005 [Vol. 36] edition of the Glacier Mountaineering Society's annual journal. Back issues are available here. At any rate, walking the ridge (another GNP goat trail!) between Wynn and Siyeh brings you face to face with that massive Siyeh North Face. Then you can sit on Siyeh's summit and dangle your feet over 4,000 feet of air. If you wish.

Click on this to see a nice capture of the size of the place!

There's another 4,000-foot face in the Many Glacier Area, the east face of Mount Gould, which due to its ready accessibility, is one of the classic, most often seen views, of Glacier Park. This face has maybe been climbed once. "Maybe," because the individual claiming the solo (!) ascent has enough inconsistencies in his story that...maybe, maybe not. But the sheer face so often seen posing behind the Many Glacier Hotel is indeed that of Mount Gould—which, by the way, is readily-enough climbed from the west, from the Weeping Wall parking area along the Sun Road.

A good take on the great east face of Mount Gould.

No 4,000-foot faces on Mount Wilbur, and at 9,321 feet it is not the area's highest, but I still think of Wilbur as the "monarch" of the Many Glacier Area. It is a technical-only climb, one of five such summits in the park. It is also a very, very beautiful mountain, with a quite real lure drawing one to its heights; for those with technical-climbing aspirations and abilities (there

Mount Gould.

are at least five documented routes), this peak is one of the most sought after in the entire park, and can be done in one long day. (Check out the excellent Mount Wilbur page submitted by Fred Spicker, plus—as always—A Climber's Guide to Glacier National Park.)

Anyone just wishing a day's outing with a minimal amount of off-trail climbing can do the excellent 5-mile trail leading from the Swiftcurrent Campground to Iceberg Lake—an interesting and aptly-named bit of geography that is one of

Beautiful Mount Wilbur.

the more popular destinations in the area—and will put you at the base of not only Wilbur, but also the Pinnacle Wall, and Iceberg Peak. And if, at the 2.5-mile point you continue on another 2.5 miles to the Ptarmigan Tunnel rather than turn left to Iceberg Lake, you'll have the opportunity to enter the Belly River area through the tunnel. Or do the remarkable goat trail which started out this page.

It would be possible to write a book on this great area (Edwards devotes more than 60 pages to it!), but for obvious reasons that is not possible here, and no matter what's included...it is, in the most elemental way, not enough; there is—and always will be—still more. Many Glacier is an area to explore, not in a few days or weeks, but over years. It is a huge microcosm of GNP, and for those entering the area for the first time, I envy you your sense of discovery, but for those of us returning, the anticipation is enough. It is a truly amazing place.

Another day begins in Glacier National Park.

INTERLUDE—The Joy of Climbing in a Beautiful Place

Climbing on Allen Mtn, #1

Climbing on Allen Mtn, #2

Climbing on Allen Mtn, #3

Climbing on Allen Mtn, #4

THE LAKE McDONALD AREA—A GENTLE ENTRANCE

Heavens Peak, Mount Vaught—sentinals on the way up Stanton Mountain

Classic Lake McDonald View

I think this West Entrance a nice way to enter Glacier National Park. Rather than being thrown almost at once into a mountainous environment requiring a certain amount of immediate sense-adjustment, Lake McDonald has you slipping into the park comparatively quietly, almost surreptitiously for a few miles as the road winds within just a few feet of the lake. A

An ominous Cannon Mtn.

relatively level drive at first, and on a pleasant summer's day...mellow. Trees are thick enough, even between highway and lake, that it sometimes seems the drive is through a forest, giving visual access only occasionally to the water and beyond. The view is relatively restricted as trees blur the passing lake, and the

Mount Brown, Lake McDonald in the distance.

ridge on the far side, but there are turn-outs where one can pause, walk the short distance to the rocky shore, and just relax. Like I've already said, if the day is nice, it all seems such a gentle way in.

But of course this isn't really an area where "mellow" holds much sway. The park is entered—and this is true of all entrances—relatively quickly; even during those deceptive first miles vision will whenever possible slip over the water, taking in the far end of the lake. And there you have it. It is oh-so-nice where you are, and visual distance takes a bit of an edge off the immediate future, but you know things are going to change, and quickly. So in the meantime stop wherever you wish. Walk the few feet to the lake, have a picnic. Take pictures. Relax, but do so in anticipation, because even the nicest of summer days at these climes is soon going to change. As will the terrain, and the road. What you see at the far end of the lake makes it so.

Edwards Mountain, Little Matterhorn, from Floral Park.

A different perspective on Cannon and Brown

Lake McDonald is a beautiful glacial lake, and its lie is mostly north and south; it is ten miles in length, with the Sun Road following the shore-line relatively closely during that distance. But this side of GNP is west of the Continental Divide and as

Quite alone on Heavens Peak.

such receives a great deal of precipitation; it is the lowest area in the park (the lake elevation is 3153'), and that, combined with a certain amount of natural protection from the Arctic problems slamming against the eastern slope means that the forest and vegetation west of the divide is, as you drive along the lake, quite lush. The forest is, in fact, dense enough so as to make it quite impossible to see through to whatever may lie beyond; those first few miles are all trees and water, and the mountains at the far north end of the lake.

But even though such is not visible from the road, things have been changing, and at about the time the far end of the lake is reached comes the realization that yes, the mountains drawing you to them have become much closer and are looming huge and seemingly impassable, but there are

Beautiful Gunsight Mountain, Sperry Glacier.

now open spaces in the forest, and it is possible to see what the

Early fall on the Garden Wall.

trees have previously been blocking from view. All along, the road has been slipping into the mountains, has in fact been in them for miles, and this is the point at which I always feel a most emphatic, "Welcome to Glacier National Park!" No si